When Zoology Curses Attack
by ChuckNorrisLeftFist
Summary: "Huh. It says here that cats spend up to one-third of their waking hours grooming." David tried not to and then snickered, "Well, that explains why Kurt turned into a cat instead of a bird." Pure fluff. Conclusion: Warbler herding and shoe chewing.
1. Chapter 1

_In response to the awesome prompt: Kurt gets turned into a kitten at Dalton and the Warblers take care of him _

_Kitten-believing-its-a-cheetah-kurt! for the win!_

* * *

><p>David stuck his head in Wes' door. "Again."<p>

"But it's two weeks to finals!"

"I don't think the Zoology Curse cares."

Wes got up, resignedly. It was at times like this that he really wished he had his gavel in a holder next to his cell phone holder. He was convinced that life would have far fewer moments like this. "Who did it get?"

"Kurt Hummel, the new transfer."

"Let me guess. Peacock? Bird of paradise? Baby penguin?"

David kept shaking his head and was actually kind of smirking. "No, no, and no."

"Hummingbird? Painted bunting? Egret?"

"No, not even a bird."

"But every single Warbler here who was caught in the Curse turned into a bird. It's tradition!"

"I'll give you a hint. Are you listening very carefully? Because this hint is very subtle." David took a deep breath and let out a piercing "MEEOOOW!"

"A cat. He turned into a cat." Wes was starting to get the kind of headache that usually only the combination of a concussion, a hangover, strobe lights with color gels, fingernails on chalk, and a baby screaming could produce. (As to how he knew that, the Warbler Archives on that have been sealed until 2713.)

"Does it help that he's actually a kitten?"

Thad strolled in, holding a small brownish kitten in both hands. The kitten looked at David and Wes for a moment, then rolled on its back with all four paws splayed. "Oh, come on, he wants a belly rub, don't you, Kitten Kurt?" Thad was pretty much human goo.

"Ppprrrrp."

David tickled the tiny kitten tummy with one finger, carefully covering each of the little belly dots. Wes in the meantime texted the rest of the Warblers to alert them to the Curse's latest strike on one of theirs.

"I want to hold him next," Alex demanded.

Mike scritched Kitten Kurt under the chin. "Let's go to Petco and get him some toys!"

"Dude, I know cats. He'll sniff at them for two minutes with this 'I'm not sure what you want me to do with this' expression and then just play with the wrapping." The voice of experience came from Marek.

Thad looked like somebody had taken away one of his toys. "But it's fun!"

"I didn't say it isn't," Marek protested.

"So who gets litter box duty?" Wes' question was the perfect one to get a moment of silence as the Warblers all avoided one another's eyes. Kurt chose the moment to yawn impossibly widely and display a long and improbably pink tongue and tiny baby teeth. Blaine was the last to arrive. "Your text said that the Curse got Kurt."

Jeff drew away from the group of Warblers forming a rough square around Kurt and let Blaine take his place. Blaine stared for a moment at the brown kitten who was still engaged in a heroic chase to catch his own tail. Each time he nearly got a paw on it, it slipped away. Finally, the kitten managed to trap the very tip of his tail with his paw, and then looked rather confused.

"Well, now what, silly little thing?" Gi Tan crooned. "Whatcha going to do with your tail now? Huh, little guy? Awwwww, who's a great big hunter?" The other Warblers exchanged looks that mixed alarm and amusement. Gi Tan was the one who had a thing for splatterpunk and dozed during _Saw_ and the _American Psycho_movie. Kurt applied the usual feline solution to any moment of hesitation and briefly licked the tip of his tail before releasing it.

Kurt noticed Blaine and bounded up to him, immediately scaling his trousers. "Hi, there, Kurt," Blaine said, unsure of what the kitten would understand. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, none of the Warblers who had succumbed to the Curse had remembered afterward what it was like or whether they still understood English or other human languages. Kurt settled in his hands and started to lick himself industriously.

Blaine had taken Advanced Biology. He knew that the components that, when grouped together, are typically called "cuteness" are virtually universal among mammal young. It just happened to be true that this particular baby animal, who was now industriously licking the side of his hand with a rasping little tongue, and who had the softest imaginable fur and bright, trusting eyes, was the most adorable thing in the universe. "Awwwww, can you hear him purring?"

"Road trip to Petco?" Wes suggested. He hadn't forgotten about the litter box issue, even if the rest of them had.

* * *

><p>Kitten Kurt did not experience any communication problems at the pet supplies store. The Warblers split up temporarily to get the various supplies. Peter made the mistake of picking the first kitten-sized safety collar on the display. When he put it in the basket, Kurt jumped from Thad's shoulder into the basket, sniffed at it, and with one scoop of his paw, sent it sailing to the floor. Clearly, not even ending up temporarily in a kitten's body could make Kurt lose his sense of personal style. Blaine carried him off to the display to pick for himself. Kurt sniffed at every collar in his size, stuck his head through some of them, and finally sank his kitten teeth into his preference. Blaine checked the price tag. Kurt was true to form there, too.<p>

When Kurt realized that there were mirrors in some of the bird cages, he made a flying leap into one of the cages and preened, licking a paw and drawing it over his face several times, and shooting a disdainful glance at the immediate sound of camera phones going off.

Blaine was very thankful that one of the litter boxes had embedded glitter on the sides because he wasn't sure what would happen if Kurt wasn't satisfied with any of the offerings, other than that it probably wouldn't be very hygienic.

After that, Kurt sat contentedly in the basket as the Warblers got a tag engraved. They traumatized the clerk more than a trifle above his pay grade when he asked what contact name and number to put on the collar and every single Warbler laid a claim. Finally, they settled on Blaine as the primary contact and David as the secondary, all the while Kurt sat on the counter with his tail curled neatly around his feet, with a "Really, boys, all quarreling over me?" expression.

They were about to leave the store when Blaine froze in a way that made a deer in the headlights look positively hyperactive. "Is that his dad's truck?" Kurt paused his cruising from shoulder to shoulder to take a curious peek as Blaine frantically tried to think how to explain to Mr. Hummel that for the next 72 hours, his son would be a kitten. "No, sorry, guys, false alarm."

Well, at least they'd learned which three Warblers were the most prone to fainting.

* * *

><p>"Huh. It says here that cats spend up to one-third of their waking hours grooming." Jeff was checking out the websites on caring for kittens.<p>

David tried not to and then snickered, "Well, that explains why Kurt turned into a cat instead of a bird."

"Says Mr. 'When I was a wood duck, I slept with my nose in my armpit,'" snapped Blaine, coming to Kurt's defense.

Alex watched Kurt strutting along the table. "Maybe he's jealous because he only got bread and cracked corn as his treats, while Thad bought out sixteen different kinds of kitten treats."

"You don't want a little tiny kitten to go hungry, do you?" Thad managed to look wounded, even though Kurt was on his second packet of Greenies. That hour. "Besides, they're good for his teeth and digestion."

"All right, all right, I now call this meeting to order." Wes reached for his gavel and found that he was grasping a warm, fuzzy non-gavel, since Kurt had fallen asleep on his instrument of authority, with his chin resting on the pounding part. The kitten woke up briefly, gave Wes' hand a brief lick, licked his own back furiously, and then settled back to sleep.

"Well, then, postponing the meeting's business until somebody finishes his nap," Wes resigned himself to the inevitable, "Any new choreography ideas?"

Kurt didn't relinquish his position on the gavel but lazily raised a hind foot to his mouth to clean thoroughly between the little needle claws. "Thank you, Kurt, but we're not all that flexible and I'm not sure that licking our feet would really enhance our scores." Kurt yawned widely at David's grave response and went back to sleep.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe we could do a _Happy Feet _tribute medley?" Malek added, in the silence that followed, "It would be a fitting bird theme."

"And do penguin dances?" Blaine was having the kinds of mental images that would come back in his dreams the next night he over-indulged in extra-spicy Thai food. Intriguing but definitely disturbing.

Kurt woke up and suddenly crouched into a full pouncing position. His squarish kitten backside began to twitch and Blaine wasn't quite sure just who began singing "Eye of the Tiger" as Kurt made a leap towards the mantleplace and the spider plant that had apparently been unconscionably provoking an attack. As Kurt lay on his back and batted at the various hanging fronds, Blaine had to wonder just a bit at how they could all immediately create an eight-part harmony so spontaneously, and then realized that somebody whose dear friend had suddenly turned into a cat due to a Curse from a perturbed zoology teacher had better not start wondering too closely, lest he find out.

* * *

><p>Blaine had met people who could suck all of the energy or optimism out of a room just by being in it. He hadn't realized before how good kittens are at sucking all of the attention out of the room towards them. They're like little black holes for human attention, he decided. He realized, of course, that he was one to talk, since he hadn't taken his eyes off the tiny thing since he'd brought Kurt back to his dorm room. Of course, half the other Warblers followed and he was fairly sure that he might have to physically kick them out. All Kurt had to do was some perfectly normal activity like washing his face or peeping a meow, and every one of the near-adults went "Awwwwwwww."<p>

"Look how his little tail is always sticking up," Nick gushed, sounding as though Kurt had won at least a Nobel Prize. Perhaps two. Kurt was strutting from person to person, acquiring chin scratches, petting, and cuddles before heading to the next Warbler to collect his due tribute. Finally, he yawned hugely (needless to say, another "Awwwwwwwwwww" happened) and Wes carefully settled him on the bed. Blaine supposed he was lucky that Wes hadn't put him on the pillow.

"Maybe we should let him get his rest, he's a growing kitten," David said, very reluctantly. Blaine considered he was lucky that a few of them remembered that he was in the room, too, and said goodnight to him as well as to the kitten.

After finishing his much-neglected homework, he carefully got into bed to avoid disturbing the sleeping kitten. Regardless, after just a few minutes, Kurt scrambled up from the foot of the bed to nestle under Blaine's chin. Blaine briefly wondered how anything the size of the kitten could purr so loudly before both he and Kurt fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Despite the fact that he was not at all in love with Kurt (as he had explained to more than a few smirking Warblers), Blaine had had a few dreams about waking up and meeting Kurt's eyes. In none of those dreams, however, had the eyes been quite that shape, nor had Kurt's nose pressed against his in quite that chilly way. "Hi, Kurt," he said, reaching up to pet the little tyrant. Kurt's imperious mew reminded him of his responsibilities and he reached to his bedside table for treats. "Pushy little cat, aren't you?" The kitten rubbed against him, shoving his head into Blaine's hand.<p>

Kurt followed his every movement as he put on his robe, grabbed his towel, soap, and shampoo, and headed down the hallway to the shower room. "I don't think you'll like it in there," Blaine warned. Kurt insisted, but still gave Blaine a tremendously reproachful look as he realized that inside, the shower room was **WET** and that there was splashing and spilled **WATER **and why hadn't Blaine **WARNED** him. Blaine opened the door for Kurt to leave, but when the kitten gave him a puzzled look, instead, he tucked Kurt into his robe pocket to stay warm and dry while he showered.

He should have realized that when he came out, there would be a small group of students admiring the kitten. "Nice shower accessory, Blaine," one teased.

"That's Kurt, actually."

"Oh. The Curse?"

"You got it."

"How come he's a kitten?"

"I have no idea."

After about five minutes, Blaine asked, plaintively, "Could I put my robe on? I'm getting cold in just my towel."

* * *

><p>"Mr. Anderson? Is this accessory that you're sporting part of the new Dalton dress code?" Mr. Mason raised an eyebrow, eying Kurt, who was lounging on Blaine's shoulder.<p>

"A pilot project, sir. I'm hoping that it catches on." Blaine had learned early on that the only way to respond successfully to the Calculus teacher was to respond in kind.

"Very well, then, carry on." Mr. Mason turned back to the whiteboard and then threw over his shoulder as an afterthought. "I have an excess supply of laser pointers. I expect you and your accessory to relieve me of this burden after class."

Blaine had made a good faith attempt to leave Kurt in his dorm room. However, the kitten peeped in frustration every time the door shut behind Blaine and Jeff, who lived on the same floor, looked rather more shocked and morally offended than he would have if Blaine had left behind a pile of corpses rather than a kitten with a clean litter box, plenty of food and water, plenty of toys, and a nice sunny windowsill with one of Blaine's favorite jerseys as a pillow.

Kurt as a kitten didn't know the meaning of "discreet" any more than human Kurt. He certainly didn't see his role as snoozing quietly in Blaine's bag. During English Composition, he'd mewed every single time Dr. Crowley said something (Blaine learned the perfect technique was to say, "Awwww, he likes you, he doesn't usually take to strangers like that"); he'd looked all too speculatively at the delicate glass apparatus during Chemistry; had an epic wrestling match with the blinds cord in World History; had cruised not just the usual Warblers' table at lunch but all the other tables; and now was draping himself over Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine still had no idea how the kitten managed to get fur all over the blazers of students sitting quietly by themselves fifteen feet away.

It had been an interesting two and a half days.

Blaine didn't know how interesting it was going to get.

* * *

><p>Kurt padded behind David as the group walked to the dining hall. The belt for David's raincoat was dangling loose and Kurt was stalking it in full panther mode, managing to get a few inches more each time he leaped on it. Behind, the observers had managed to establish a betting pool about whether David would notice first or if Kurt would get the entire belt as his rightful prey.<p>

Of course, pets weren't allowed on campus, let alone in the dining hall, but Wes had insisted during the very first meal that Kurt was still a student so still had dining privileges. It didn't take that much persuasion, really, since the last time the Curse struck, the dining hall staff remembered the Great Blue Heron that they had previously known as Eric, a rather talented basketball team member, standing outside with his head stuck through the window as they fed him more than five dozen fish sticks.

Kurt had naturally sampled every Warbler's dinner, winning extra points as he tried to bury the Mystery Burrito, then settled on Blaine's lap to snooze.

Blaine had really meant to keep better track of time than he had, since during the middle of another discussion of choreography, he suddenly had a lapful of Kurt as human.

Kurt as a collar-wearing human.

Kurt as a human wearing a collar and nothing else. Well, at least the collar had his name on it.

There was an eruption of cheers from the rest of the dining hall and more than a few cries of, "It's about time!"

"Uh, Blaine? What's going on? Why am I naked on your lap?" Kurt blinked some more. "And why do I have a strong but fading compulsion to rub my chin all over you?"

"Erm, because I have a sudden strong but growing compulsion to pet you all over?"


	2. Chapter 2

AN: The muse finally decided to send me back to this one. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>Wes frowned sternly at exactly 3.82 minutes after they were due to practice their first song. ″Well, we might as well get started, even if Blaine is late.″ The Warblers started to practice Katy Perry's ″The one that got away,″ adding a dashing double spin instead of just a single spin. Then there was a noise at the door, sounding like somebody scraping at the wood, followed by a frustrated whine. Jeff looked in puzzlement at the others and then went to open it, gesturing a ″Carry on.″<p>

A small black blur rushed across the room faster than an escaping toddler, and threw itself upon Kurt. As Kurt stumbled backwards, the Warblers learned exactly why dancing in a formation that resembles a set of bowling pins isn't always a good idea. Now that the blur was mostly jumping up and down rather than rocketing forward, they could see that it had a mass of dark, curly fur, bright eyes, pointed ears, and a tail that wouldn't stop wagging.

While Kurt was busy petting the poodle pup, David was the first to say it out loud. ″Blaine?″

The puppy threw himself at David as if he was made entirely of delicious, delicious Snausages, yelping and wriggling in delight. He rolled onto his back, not stopping the wagging for an instant, mouth wide open and tongue lolling out. David started rubbing the exposed belly and there was soon a circle of Warblers all with hands outstretched to get in on the tummy rubbing action.

″Awww, he's so goofy, look at his wagging!″

″What, you're trying to do the rumba on your back, silly pooch?″

″Well, if Kurt had to turn into a kitten, it only makes sense that Blaine would turn into a puppy.″

″My hands are perfectly clean, you don't actually _need_ to clean them for me, Blaine-pup.″

″Keep wagging like that, little guy, and your tail might fall off, and then what would happen, hmmm?″

″Man, he's tiring me out with all that energy. Where does he get it from in the middle of the afternoon, anyway?″

″We'd better get you a collar, Blaine, maybe they have a nice bow tie one? Or Burberry?″ Blaine kept gravitating back to Kurt, who was petting him thoroughly but with that contemplative gaze upon things visible only to the eyes of the spirit familiar to devotees of portraits of saints or to those who have seen Kurt Hummel ponder fashion.

″Maybe they won't remember us at Petco,″ Jeff said with an optimism that was to turn out to be entirely unfounded.

Progress across campus was slow, paradoxically because of the amount of ground that Puppy Blaine covered. Every other instant he darted to greet some new best friend (best friend status bestowed simply for existing in the same universe), try to play with the squirrels (who weren't as delighted by the puppy as the other Dalton students and staff were), run back to the Warblers to ask them to bring the squirrels down so they could play (nobody obliged even if Kurt did look tempted), or to run around in circles of sheer exuberance. When Flint pointed out that Petco closes at 8:00, Kurt made an executive decision and scooped him up.

Blaine immediately convulsed in pure bliss at being picked up and lunged in Kurt's arms to lick his face, tail wagging so hard it was almost rotating. David later described the sight as the moment he knew that Kurt and Blaine were soulmates because Kurt didn't even try to protect his complexion from whatever havoc dog slobber could wreak.

When they got to the main administration building, Wes excused himself for a moment and sprinted to the sign that proudly announced, ″35 days without any campus curses″ and set it to a humbler and more accurate ″0 days.″


	3. Chapter 3

Petco had developed a sophisticated warning system and the moment that a pile of blazered students emerged from various cars and converged on the store, a voice on the loudspeaker interrupted the music to state, fairly calmly considering the circumstances, ″There has been a Warbler sighting in the parking lot. This is NOT a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill.″ The more nervous staff had their medication in hand and the most seasoned veterans headed to the cat food and cat toy aisles to maintain calm.

Military historians say that all too often, countries apply the tactics that won (or would have won) the last war to the current war. They would have clicked their tongues pityingly at the Petco staff, none of which reconnoitered to determine that it wasn't another kitten this time. It was a puppy, or at least a ball of energy, slobber, and curly fur packaged as a puppy.

At the smell of all of the treats and toys and other delights, Blaine started tugging at the leash that Kurt had improvised from Dalton ties, and dancing on his hind legs in excitement. ″Awww, you want to go look at the toys, don't you?″ Jeff cooed. ″Lots and lots of toys in there, yes, there are!″

Once they were actually inside, Blaine first tried to tear in every direction at once, and then clambered onto the first available counter to look around, scattering the display items in every direction and looking down for a moment at the chaos on the floor as if wondering how that happened. ″C'mon, Blaine, have some priorities, a real collar and leash first,″ Kurt urged, scooping him up around the middle when Blaine started running back and forth along the counter. Blaine immediately went tummy-up in his arms and Kurt obediently rubbed his belly.

In the collar and leash aisle, Kurt pulled out his cheat sheet of the season's colors, arranged by Pantone number, and explained his strategy to Wes. ″If possible, a bow tie collar in one of these colors, if not, a bow tie in a classic color, if that's not available, a regular collar in one of the season's colors.″

″Kurt, he's only going to wear it for three days.″

At Kurt's look, a weaker man would have wilted into something resembling a lettuce leaf that was left in the sun for a day and then dropped in the sink for another. But Gavel Wielders aren't so easily abashed, so Kurt had to explain, ″Would you not bang your gavel if it was only a minor decision?″ When Wes looked shocked that even Kurt would suggest such a thing, Kurt nodded smugly, ″I rest my case.″ Fortunately, there were two bow-tie collars in the right colors, but that presented another challenge. When one of the staff came to ask if he could help, Kurt presented the question.

″Which of these collars does more for his fur tone?″

The staffer's bravery had gotten him that far but failed him at that point. ″I'd better ask the manager,″ he gasped, and fled.

Blaine had gotten restless and was whining and lunging towards the other groups of Warblers in the food and toy aisles. ″Okay, let's go, Blaine.″

″Awwww, he's adorable!″ A teenaged girl stopped at the end of the aisle and crouched down to greet a delighted Blaine, who spun around in circles in delight at being petted and exclaimed over. When he started climbing her knees and licking her face, Kurt's own face soured. ″We've already been through this, with Rachel, remember?″ He gave a light tug to Blaine's leash and they continued in the direction of the toy aisle.

Kurt had rather been hoping that Blaine wouldn't notice or be interested by the ranks of cages with adoptable cats and kittens, but when he caught sight of them, Blaine darted so rapidly towards them that Kurt spun faster than Mike Chang on caffeine. Blaine barked and play-bowed in front of the nearest cage, where the kittens first looked at one another as if to confirm that this was a puppy instead of a tornado comprised of black cotton balls, and then thrust their paws through the wires at him. Wes wondered how they could make up a game, even one where the rules seemed to be as simple as ″kittens bat at Blaine with their paws, if we bop him, a point for us, if he bops our paws with his nose first, a point for him,″ without at least a preliminary outline, but it seemed to be working for them, so he probably shouldn't judge.

The kittens withdrew when their lunch appeared and after trying to convince them that playing was more fun than food, Blaine let Kurt lead him to the toy aisle. After rushing over to the Warblers as though they'd been separated for years instead of minutes, Blaine sank back on his rear to look at all the options. He launched himself into a wire bin of chew toys, grabbing one after another and shaking his head wildly with each. He let go of one mid-shake and when it bounced off the side of the bin and dinged him on the tail, he squeaked in indignation, giving Kurt another excuse to scoop him up. David and Jeff methodically gathered the toys that he had either chewed or slobbered on so much that they couldn't really leave them for the next buyer, and Nick looked at Blaine and nodded sagely. ″I bet that's what you had in mind all along, hmmm?″ Blaine's happy yelp and wiggle of delight convinced him he was right.

At the counter, Kurt spent some time debating fonts before Thad said, firmly, ″We need to get him out NOW,″ recognizing a particular kind of wriggle. Kurt rushed him out before he committed any particular deed of non-dapperness and watched cautiously as a woman walked through the parking lot with what looked like a cross between a Great Dane and a bison, and Blaine pranced back and forth with an air of ″I could take you if I wanted to.″ Fortunately, the big dog seemed more bemused than anything by the pup's strutting, and wagged benignly as Blaine swaggered up to him. Some of Blaine's bravado disappeared momentarily when the behemoth extended a tongue that was about Blaine's own size and engulfed him in a lick, but he soon got his strut back after shaking himself vigorously.

Since the manager seemed not to have emerged yet, Kurt, returning to the store, called for a Warbler vote on which collar to pick. Wes pulled out his emergency backup gavel and they selected a flattering brick shade. Blaine seemed to agree and not even to repine the lack of stripes or polka dots, and so the Warblers left the shop, Blaine leading.

The assistant manager standing at the door managed a ″Thank you″ but couldn't quite get out the ″Come again.″


	4. Chapter 4

Wes looked at his phone. "Guys, we're scheduled for an impromptu performance at 3:00. Looks like we'll have to cancel, without Blaine available to sing lead." (Scheduling less than 24 hours in advance was the Warbler version of impromptu.)

Blaine, who had been snoozing on Kurt's lap, woke up and barked and David laughed, "I think he heard you."

When he barked again, bounced up to Jeff, barked a third time, and then bounced at him from a different direction, Kurt said, "Your turn to move the sofa. How can he get _all_ of his toys under there in less than a minute?"

"Dedication," Jeff muttered, but when he turned to the sofa, Blaine barked and nudged him towards the center of the room.

"Dude, he thinks you're a sheep and he's herding you." Nick was way too amused and Jeff made a very clear gesture at him before deciding to humor Blaine. When he was standing in the middle of the room, Blaine started doing the same to David and then, to Jeff's full satisfaction, to Nick.

"Aww, he's so cute when he's being a sheepdog, huh, who's a curly-haired sheepdog?" Kurt got down to play with and pet Blaine, who jumped up and down, wriggling with delight at being petted, wagging his entire body, and then, with an air of "back to business," started to herd Flint. Flint proved more challenging since he was texting his girlfriend and Blaine barked at him several times. "Sorry, Blaine, we can play sheep flock in a minute, let me just-" he muttered distractedly.

Blaine settled back on his haunches for an instant, looking as though he was tapping his foot and looking at his watched, and then jumped from the floor to the seat of the nearest chair, from the seat to the back of the chair, and then launched himself right at Flint, grabbing his phone in his mouth, and then strutting to the center of the room where he dropped it. Flint scrambled after his phone, picked it up, and then groaned, "Blaine, you triggered autocorrect on my girlfriend!"

Kurt had to know. "What did it say?"

"I meant to say that it's so easy to impersonate our new French teacher, I can't stop." He groaned softly. "He changed it to impregnate." He started typing frantically and then sighed. "Close one."

Kurt had been distracted enough by this minidrama that he missed Blaine herding Wes, and then it hit him. "Gentlemen, he's getting us into position for 'Part of Me.' I think Blaine's intent that the show will go on."

Trent managed to stop laughing long enough to hum the pitches and Blaine scrambled to the front as the Warblers started to sing. While Blaine didn't try to sing, he danced even more exuberantly than usual and even tossed in a few backflips. David considered this a challenge and broke formation to come forward and do the same.

"I like it, I like it," Thad breathed. "Gotta do that during performance."

Wes broke formation as well to grab his gavel. "Right, we'll do that. For the vocal lines, partner with the person behind you and take one line together, starting stage right to left."

For some reason, the rest of the students had no problems at all identifying the curly-haired, exuberant, furniture-jumping lead performer of the Warblers as Blaine during the performance, and it was a happily tired and very-thoroughly petted and fed Blaine that Kurt tucked under his arm afterward to take to his dorm to finish studying before dinner.

* * *

><p><p>

Blaine Anderson did a lot of things during his Dalton tenure to interrupt Kurt's studies. Sudden duet requests, coming in bearing coffee and cookies, coming in baring only a towel and request for the spare key he had entrusted to Kurt, and so on, but there was one line he had never crossed until now.

Eyes dancing, his threat was all too clear. "Play with me or I start chewing the shoe."

The shoe being a Christian Louboutin that Kurt still couldn't believe he had found on eBay for $60, thanks to an unsuspecting lister , bad photographs, and several misspellings in the listing. It was only his well-honed Spidey Shopping Sense that made him realize what they were and swoop them away from that undeserving person who insulted them by listing them as Buy It Now for $60 to a home where they'd be cherished appropriately. It wasn't as much a purchase as a rescue mission, in Kurt's eyes.

"Blaine, one tooth on those and you are history!"

Blaine wagged, having successfully gotten Kurt's attention, and happily came over to him and rolled tummy-up. That tummy and those excited, happy, confident eyes and anticipatory wagging would have appeased almost anybody, and the little whine pushed Kurt out of The Wrath of Khan Ain't Nothing territory into Cooing and Cuddling Territory. After petting, Blaine brought one of his chew toys over for a round of fetch and they passed that way until dinnertime.

Before leaving the dorm room, though, Kurt put the Louboutins on the highest shelf and gave Blaine a warning glare that got only big innocent "I would never dream of chewing on a shoe" eyes and another wag.

* * *

><p><p>

Kurt was keeping more careful track of time than the Warblers had during his episode with the Zoology Curse. Of course, considering that Blaine had threatened his shoes, that didn't necessarily mean that he was going to make sure that Blaine was in his dorm room or some other private place with clothing handy. Plus, he had to go through the comments later about "haven't seen as much of you lately, Kurt," and, from the students in Art History, references to _Dejeuner sur l'herbe_, and so the temptation to take Blaine for a walk in the middle of town at transition time was there.

However, he didn't want to trigger a cycle of revenge with one of the better pranksters in the school, not to mention the thought of his dad getting wind of Blaine having an exhibitionist moment in the middle of town, so he took Blaine's clothing along when he took Blaine to class. He was glad that it was going to happen in history instead of Chemistry because the day before, one of the smells in the lab put Blaine in a humping state of mind and the teacher resented being upstaged by his own desk during a lecture, so he put a mournful Blaine in a carrier for that class. Blaine's air was so dejected that Kurt nearly got him a little tin cup to run against the mesh of the carrier.

Kurt thought of shoes, socks, underwear, shirt, pants, tie, blazer, and hair gel.

Kurt didn't think of Daylight Savings Time.

Blaine never really reminded anybody of the Hulk before in his life, but the resemblance was there, a little bit, as he burst out of the carrier. Except the Hulk seemed to be able to keep shorts on, while Blaine wasn't wearing anything but a collar and gooseflesh, and, a few moments later, a full-body blush.

He scrambled into his clothing, apologizing so hard he was tripping over his tongue and his pants legs, while Kurt admired the view and a few other students had to be stopped from their activities with a stern "Put those phones away!" from the teacher.

Kurt had learned a lot at McKinley. He'd learned about acceptance, team spirit, standing up for himself, and not giving in on matters of principle. He'd also, thanks to Puck and Lauren's influence, learned about how to get or erase security camera footage. If it was there, he was going to get it. If Blaine wanted it erased, well, Kurt had also learned about blackmail.


End file.
